Well, What Now?
by RosieLeah
Summary: There's a new director at Kamila High School who has a daughter. Follow her story through her sophomore year as she discovers friendships, relationships, and awesome band trips. Rated T just because K always seems too immature for the targeted audience.


A/N: Hey y'all. This is my first, okay second, story that I've posted but I deleted the first one since it sucked. Anywhos, R & R please. Feed back is nice. Ideas are even better. Whatever you suggest will be taken into consideration. I have an idea as to where this is going but I'm just typing as thought comes to my mind. I hope y'all like it.

* * *

"Someday everything will all make perfect sense.

So for now, laugh at the confusion,

Smile through the tears,

And keep reminding yourself that everything happens for a reason." ~unknown

August was most defiantly the hottest month of the year. Even at eight in the morning the sun managed to emit enough heat to warm the earth to an ungodly temperature. The humidity didn't help at all either.

As Rosiele McFerrson entered the auditorium a blast of cold air rushed in her face. A new band awaited her. Kamila High School, Home of the Braves, had hired her dad to be the new band director. 'This will be interesting,' she thought. 'They have no idea who I am or that dad is the director. I can start all over and just be me. Kamila was her third high school and she was only a sophomore.

"All right, let's settle down shall we?!" Mr. McFerrson had taken center stage. "I'm Mr. McFerrson and you can call me Mick or McFerrson. Ferrson is someone you talk about with your friends but not to me." He gave them all the 'and if you do …' look. "Any questions so far?" A boy in the middle raised his hand. "Yes, sir, what's your name and question?"

"I'm Daniel Malloy. Why can't we call you Ferrson?" the boy asked.

"One, because I said so and two, because my daughter would kill me; anything else?" No one raised their hand. "Good, let's move on to business. I want brass over here, woodwinds here, percussion over there, and the guard right there." Everyone stood up to move. Everyone except Rosiele. She stayed in the back out of the way waiting to see where she was going to be put this time.

"Hey girl in the back," yelled Daniel. "Why aren't you in a section?"

'Oh, great, here it comes.' She thought

"Do you even talk?" Daniel asked

"I talk but I don't really have a section. I do everything."

"Well, then. Let me give you a rundown of the sections. We have the brass. They're the cocky bunch of us who think just because they can hurt your ears the most that makes them the best. The head section leader is Dylan who plays every brass instrument possible and won state S and E last year on trumpet, French horn, and baritone. "

"S and E?" Rosiele asked in a confused voice.

"Solo and Ensemble. Anyway, then you have the woodwinds. Your usual mix of flutes, piccolos, clarinets, and saxes. Rumor has it that Janet wanted to march bassoon but realized that you can't really attach a neck strap to it and carry it around on a field for nine minutes. I don't think she made it to two in the band room just talking to MaryAnn. MaryAnn is the queen of the band. What she says about woodwinds is like the bible. That girl has spent countless hours online and in the library researching every type of reed instrument there is. Although she knows the most she's not the best we have, Billy Joe is. He started out on the oboe but once he hit high school his new love became the English horn. He marches clarinet but in all reality he would march his English horn if he could. If this McFerrson guy is as good as they say he is than I bet he can find us a show that has a kick ass English horn solo in it just so Billy can play it."

"There's no show that has a specific part for an English horn but there are many that have solos in them for it. They're really fun to play." Rosiele informed him.

"I take it you're Ferrson. We heard he had a daughter who was in high school but with all the freshmen it's kind of hard to pick you right out from the bunch of new faces. Don't worry. I won't tell the rest of the band I found you. Onto guard. You have your prima donnas and your outcasts in one group. If your dads any smart he'll pick out the guard uniforms himself and not them. It would take all season for them to decide on one uniform. There are a few guys who do guard but they're not here today. They play football and varsity practice is in the mornings. I swear all you have to do is show them a routine once and they know it by heart. It's amazing. Naturally Jason and Cassidy are the section heads but that can change depending on the rules your dad has.

"Last but not least we have the percussion. Some schools have a separate section for battery and pit but not us. We're totally tight with each other. Only a few spots are set in stone. Allen is the battery section leader, Beth is the pit section leader, and I am the overall section leader. We have the most fun by far and love what we do the most. So you said you do everything. What is it you want to do?"

"I hate brass even thought my first instrument I learned was trumpet. Woodwinds are awesome only if they like pixie sticks. Do they like them?"

"Not really but sugar is off limits to any woodwind in the band. We don't like sugar highs very much and wish to keep our heads."

"Okay then, that's a no. Guard is good but the drama kills it for me. I never got why there's so much drama in the guard. So I guess that leaves percussion. What do you guys need filled? Snare? Tenor? Mallets? Bash? Anything at all and I'm your girl."

"Well, bass drum three needs someone and the tenors could use another one but if you really want the fun, snare is the way to go. If marching isn't for you than by all means take over George. He's feeling rather lonesome since Sam graduated last year."

"George? You guys named an instrument George?"

"His technical name is George Benjamin Imba but we call him George."

"I don't know. I love to do mallets but my snare could use some work. I'm not the best buy any means and I'm in desperate need of help. Would you mind having a strugleing person on snare line?" Rosiele was certain he was going to say she had to do mallets instead but to her surprise he said sure, she could do it as long as learned the part by competition all would be well in the world.

Later that day after everyone had played the name game and been assigned an instrument Mr. McFerrson called Rosiele over.

"Rose I need you to do flute. I know you hate woodwinds and all but this girl knows everything there is to know about the instrument and could use a good side kick like you."

"Dad, I want to do snare." Rosiele told him

"But you suck at snare. That's your one weakness. You can't pull off the show I picked and if you did than you would have no life because you'd be practicing all the time. I think you really should do flute. It's so easy you could have it memorized by the time you go home today."

"I know, I was there when you picked it out, remember? I really want to do snare so can I? MaryAnn isn't all that bad. Why should I have to play flute just because she knows everything there is to know about it?"

Mr. McFerrson sighed. "Rosie, you can do what you want to do I just want to have a life as well as marching band.

"Thank you daddy!" she squealed and ran off to join the battery in the percussion room.

"So, you're Ferrson's daughter," a pit player taunted.

"Yeah, I am and I play everything so what do you need to know?" Rosiele was not about to have some punk bully her around just because she was the director's kid.

"Hey, Allen's just like that," Beth said. "Ignore everything he says and it'll be all good. I mean, that's what the rest of us do except Allen."

"There's two Allen's? How to heck do you tell them apart?"

"It's easy. I'm Allen Jackson, the punk over there is Allen Harrington, your fellow snare player is Allen Coralline, and Allen Masson is on the football team so he's at practice." Allen just laughed at her reaction. "Don't look so amazed. I'm Jack, Harrington is Fisheye, Coralline is Cores, and Masson is just Allen. Don't every try to give Allen a nickname 'cause it won't work."

"Babe, don't look like a deer caught in the headlights. It's not good for you." Beth seemed to have taken her side in all of it.

"Don't call me babe. Only Jackie and Christopher can call me that. Y'all just call me Rose, Rosie, or Ferrson."

Daniel banged open the door and took a good look around. "I take it you guys have met Rosiele. Now let's get to work." Everyone just looked around like he was speaking Chinese. "Don't give me that look. Cores get the bass drums down. Beth, find all the mallets and the yarn we stashed at the end of last year. Where's Allen?"

"He's at football practice," Rorana mumbled under her breath.

"Are y'all telling me that my battery section leader is on the field running a football around?!"

"Yeah, he is." Daniel started to move towards the door. "Don't do it, Dan. Let him try both. You know he's going to quit and come back to us."

"How do you know that? We all know he wants to make it big in college and the only way he's getting there is by a scholarship from some school."

"Because, Allen is my brother and he told me so. He swore on his own accord that he wouldn't just leave us hanging!" Rorana shouted at Daniel. Everyone cleared a good ten foot circle around the two as they continued to argue back and forth.

"Just because he's your brother doesn't mean anything, Ror." Daniel's voice was so quiet everyone had to lean in to hear what he was saying. "Remember last year? Remember what almost happened last year? I don't think I need to remind you what your brother did to his best friend in the whole world in front of the whole school."

"Dan, he was drunk out of his mind and everyone knew it. What you don't know is that he regretted every moment of it. He stayed in his room for weeks just trying to forget it over the summer. Football may be his last chance in the world and you and I both know it. They don't have scouts for the best side kick drummer. They have scouts for the best lineman or quarterback. Do you really want to see all that go away just because he's missing morning rehearsals?"

"No, Ror. I don't but I do want my best friend to still be there for me and I still want to be his best friend in the whole universe. Now let's get to work." Everyone gathered in their sections and began to divvy up the music.

"Hey, Beth, I need three bass players!" Fisheye yelled. "Send some freshmen over here to tryout."

"Hey, Beth, I need another tenor player, can I have Mall or she off limits?" Tom, the tenor head yelled.

"Mall's mine and you know it. Take Cores, he's just as good." Beth yelled back as she sent a few freshmen over to the bass line.

For the rest of the morning all was good and Rosiele discovered that the percussion section was more than a section, it was a family in the band and they did everything together. Everyone went to the pool parties and to the dinner together. They tried everything that was suggested and never told anyone their idea was stupid before they tried it. Before long, morning rehearsal was done for the day and they had a five hour break before night rehearsal started at five. Until then Rosiele was stuck at the school with her dad.

"Rose, why don't you go hang out with some of the band members, I can get the room ready for tonight," Mr. McFerrson told his daughter.

"I don't know anyone well enough to hang out with them, dad. I can't just call someone up when I don't have their numbers and I'm not using your list." Rosiele told him.

"Fine, have it your way. Can you check the stands to make sure they're all in working order? I thought I saw some that were wobbly and crooked."

For the next few hours Rosiele check and fixed the stands. Any that needed to be fixed she fixed and the ones that she couldn't were put in one of the practice rooms for later. At about three her phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hi. Is this Rosiele?" A voice asked.

"That depends on who's asking," she replied.

"Its Allen, the one who wasn't at practice today." Allen said. For a minute Rosiele didn't say anything at all. "Beth gave me your number and said to invite you to the percussion party tonight after rehearsal. If you say you can't come I have been told to tell you that you have no choice and that we'll be by at nine to pick you up and you need to have an overnight bag ready. Welcome to the percussion section." With that, Allen hung up and Rosiele just starred at her phone.

"Dad!? Can I go out tonight after band?" Rose called into the office.

"Rose, you have rehearsal tomorrow morning. No you can't."

"I have no choice. I'm getting picked up at nine by the percussion section and I've been told to have an overnight bag ready." Mr. McFerrson stopped what he was doing and went into the band room.

"What's that?" he asked in a quizzical tone.

"I've been told that I am invited to a percussion party tonight after rehearsal and I have no choice as to whether or not I want to go and to have an overnight bag ready when I'm picked up." She told him. Her dad just shook his head and went back to filling the music. 'A lot of help that was,' She thought. 'I hate these stupid marching band traditions. Why can't it be at the end of the week when we don't have rehearsal in the morning…?'

* * *

After night rehearsal on the field Rosiele and Mr. McFerrson drove home.

"Dad, do I have to go to the party tonight?" Rose asked.

"No, Rosie, you don't but I think it would be wise to. I mean after all you are going to be in band with them for the rest of the year. Plus it would seem odd if I told them you were sick and you showed up to band tomorrow morning," he replied.

Rose sighed. "I guess you're right. I have no choice but to go and see what crazy things this percussion section does on the first night of rehearsal week."

When they got home she started packing her overnight pack. Toothbrush check. Clothes check. Sticks check. Shoes check. P.J's check. Music check. Brush… just as Rosiele was about to check it off her list her door burst open and all the Allen's, Beth, and Daniel entered.

"Time to go!" Beth shouted. "You're not coming dressed like that are you?"

"It's the first thing I found that wasn't still in a box and besides I don't even know what we're doing."

"We're going to the fifty-first annual percussion party," Jack stated as a matter of fact. Beth started to go through the boxes that filled the room. "And Beth, it would probably be better if you asked Ferrson where all of her clothes are."

"Oh, yeah. Well, where are they?" she asked impatiently. Rose just pointed to the walk in closet she had. All the boys promptly left the room leaving Beth to the informing of proper attire to a percussion party. "First of all, Daniel has the biggest crush on you so you'll want to look cute, sexy, and like a percussionist all in one. Do you have any dresses that don't look like they were your grandmothers when she was our age? A fippy skirt would work too." Rose just stood there too stunned to even move. "Hey! Rosiele! Snap out of it would you. This is your welcome party to the school and town."

"What the heck just gives you the authority to kidnap me and go through my stuff?" Rose snapped. "I've known y'all for less than a day and here you are barging into my room and telling me to get my act together. And I don't like Daniel so why should I look cute and sexy and like a percussionist? Why can't I just be a percussionist and comfortable? And no, I don't own a skirt."

"I get it. I didn't want to go to my first percussion party either. I learned from Sarah Lee that you just have to do what you're told even if you are the band director's daughter. I don't give a damn if you want to go or not because your dad has already told us that you are to get out of the house and have a normal high school experience and not just a band one. That and he told us you need help with the snare part and that's already covered since Richard Lee Morison instated that as one of the rules at the very first percussion party fifty-one years ago. Rule number one and always one: there must be a sectional at every percussion party ever to be held for the Kamila Brave's marching band percussion section." Beth just ranted all of this off while finding an outfit for Rose. She handed her the outfit, pointed to the hall, and told her to go change.

Five minutes later the van full of percussionists pulled up in front of the biggest house in town. "Welcome to Billy's" said the sign at the gate. "Is this Billy Joe's place?" Rose asked to no one in general. Everyone just gave a nod of the head in response. "But he's not in the percussion section so why are we here?"

Fisheye just looked at her. "Fisheye don't do that, you're going to make her scarred of you," Cores scolded. "Billy Joe is the only person to ever be an honorary member of the Kamilia percussion section so we have the parties here. It's one of the Richards rules of which you have to know by the end of the night."

"Allen, please tell me he's joking me." Rose pleaded with the mysterious man who had somehow gotten her phone number without ever meeting her.

"You don't have to known them by the end of the night it's just unusual for someone not too. You have till the first competition to know them. At which you will officially be accepted as part of the percussion section." Allen was amused by his fellow section mate's jokes. "And guys, one of the rules are no joking with the band director's daughter. Have you not read Kathy's rule number one?" At this point the whole van was on the porch about to go inside when the door magically opened by its self.

"How many sets of rules are there?" asked Rosiele. "Did the door just open by its self?" Everyone but Beth laughed at her. She just shook her head and said "Yes it did now let's go in before we let all the cool air out." They all hurried inside just as the door was closing. "Billy must have added that feature today. That guy has way too much time on his hands."

Just then Billy, or who Rosiele assumed was Billy, entered the foyer. "Well, don't just stand there like a bunch of cows eating. Come in. You guys should know by now that there is no formality at a percussion party… unless there's a rule I don't know about. Is there a rule I don't know about?"

"No Billy, there isn't but we were sure if 'it' was finished or not." Jack said.

"'It' is finished but you have to be very careful around 'it' since it hasn't quite finished drying." Billy led the group down the stairs into the great room below.

In the middle of the room there was a life size model of the percussion instruments made entirely out of paper. A red cord went all the way around it like it was an important piece of art one would find in a museum. For a few minutes everyone just admired it and finally one of the tenor players said "Why are there only five drums on the tenors when we have six?" Billy quickly ducked under the rope fixed them. "Better but Brett's rule number sixteen says there is always to be six drums on the tenors no matter what we play that season.."

"Hey, Phil, Greg's rule number three says it's what number you're playing that year and this year it's five. So, Billy, if you would be so kind as to fix the fix you fixed."

The rest of the evening went much the same way. After about ten minutes Rosiele figured out why it was unlikely for anyone to not know all the rules by the end of the night. Anything that was wrong or too right was fixed by someone stating a rule and sometime counteracted with a different rule from later years.

Around eleven things began to calm down a bit. "Okay everyone, Porter's rule number ten says eleven is the official time for sectionals so let's do this thing." Mall shouted over the music that was still up almost as loud as it could go. Billy turned off the music and opened the double doors at the far end of the room.

"Oh. My. Gosh," Bacon exclaimed. "I see why we have the parties here. How the heck did you afford all of this?"

"Uh, hello, have you seen where I live? My parents are loaded and it's still growing." Billy shook his head in disbelief and proceeded to pull drums off the shelf. "Just because I own the drums does not mean that I have to pull them off the shelves by myself. Now come on and help a fellow band member you lazy bums." Nobody moved. "Hey, no helping, no more parties at my place. That's what I thought." In a matter of seconds all the drums were off the shelves and the pit instruments were almost set up.

Billy counted and they were off. After a full run through of what they knew, which wasn't much they started on the opener measure by measure. By the time they were done, at twelve thirty, everyone could play the opener decently with music.

Hannah, a freshman, was the first to yawn of them all. "Please don't tell me there's a rule pertaining to whoever yawns first."

"Actually, there is. Richard's rule number 3.14159265… says that's when it's time to go to bed and no pranks are to be pulled at the first party of the year," Rose read out of the booklet she had found in Billy's room.

"Hey, Ferrson knows something, even if she did cheat and she's right. That rule has yet to be over turned, maybe I'll have to change that," Daniel laughed evilly.

After all the equipment was safely tucked away and everyone had found a spot to sleep the lights were turned off.

"So the rules only say we have to go to bed but we don't have to go to sleep," Rachel, Fisheye's little sister, pointed out.

"And?"

"Read my mind, Fish, read my mind."

"Let me guess. You want to play a game of truth, seeing as how the dare part we can't do since we're to stay in bed."

"Yup. So who's in for it?" Only the Allen's gave an affirmative answer. Everyone else just wanted to listen. "Fine then. Cores what is the first thing that entered your mind when you found out McFerrson had a daughter?" Rachel asked.

"I thought that if she was hot that I was going to get her to date me but if she was beautiful than we were just going to be friends," Cores replied. "By the way, you're beautiful so I hope you're okay with just being friends."

"Thank you. I'm good with that. It wouldn't have worked if you tried to get me to date you."

"Good to hear. Jack, what did you do with the broken stick from last year?"

"I shoved it up your butt, didn't you know?" The whole section laughed at that one.

"I'm being serious, Jack."

"Cores, if you would clean out your closet every now and then maybe you'd find it," Jack said.

"I cleaned it last week and it wasn't there. Now what did you do with the broken stick from last year?" There was a long pause lasting almost five minutes. By the time Jack said anything the mood in the room was very serious.

"The truth is that I put in the ceiling of the percussion room and never told anyone." Jack finally said. "It's up there with all the yarn and Eskimo Joe. Allen, how many times have you promised us something and never done it?"

"You guys, I'm not going to bail on you like I did at the end of last year. Ror told me what happened today at morning rehearsal. I'm not going to get drunk and quit just because my best friend decides to be an ass and pull some bull shit on me. I promise all of you that I'll stay in and come to all the sectionals and practices I can but y'all know football is the only shoot I have of getting into a good college. I may not be able to make all the games but I sure as hell will be at all the competitions." Allen paused for a moment. "Daniel I'm sorry for being an ass last year and I'm sorry for still being an ass but just to let you know I really did try to sleep my life away over the summer. I tried so hard to make it all go away just by not doing anything about it. Thanks for giving me another chance, dude. I'm not going to screw it up on purpose this time."

"You know you're still my best friend in the world. I'll give you as many chances as you want until the day we die, man." Dan promised him. "I guess as long as you make all the practices and sectionals you can and if you come to all the competitions you can still be my battery section leader. But you'll need a fill in so have your pick. I want a decision by the end of the week or else I'm picking someone. Understood?"

"Yeah, dude. I understand," said Allen. "Now let's get some sleep so we can get to practice on time."


End file.
